


Just Five Years

by GoodnightBilly



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Angst, How Do I Tag, I'm really sorry about that, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Racism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-18 19:50:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8173883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodnightBilly/pseuds/GoodnightBilly
Summary: Glimpses of the lives of Goodnight Robicheaux and Billy Rocks, from the day they met up to the day it all goes to hell. 
Chapters are titled by how much time is left.





	1. -Twenty Hours

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter isn't a very happy one, sorry. They do get better from here. I honestly haven't written fanfiction in at least 3 years, but I really loved The Magnificent Seven remake and had to contribute to the small fandom. Hope someone likes it!

The town broke for lunch at the hotel around noon. Billy Rocks and Vasquez had just finished rigging up another simple trap when the bell rang out. Vasquez clapped Billy on the back and headed off for the food. Billy waited against the side of the building.

Goodnight and the men he was rifle-training came trudging across the plain. He saw Billy on the edge of the town and tipped his hat. Billy nodded, but knew something was off. In Goodnight’s walk, expression, something was wrong. The sharpshooter fell behind the rest of the group as he slowed to look back at the training range.

Billy waited for the town’s men to file on past before stepping in front of Goodnight, effectively stopping him.

Goodnight had been looking down, and stopped just short of running into Billy. He looked up and Billy saw his eyes come into focus from whatever memory he’d been lost in. Goodnight gave a small, nervous smile. Billy wasn’t fooled for a second.

“What is wrong?” he asked.  
  
Goodnight’s fingers tapped nervously on his rifle’s stock. “I need to talk to ya,” he mumbled.

Billy covered Goodnight’s fidgeting hand with his own. “I am here.”

Goodnight stepped back a little, moving himself out of Billy’s reach, and looked around. Everyone seemed to have gathered in the middle of town to eat. He relaxed a little, grabbed Billy’s hand, and led him behind the building.

Billy silently wondered what this was. Goodnight’s hand was still wrapped around his, holding him tight. Too tight, maybe? Was he shaking again? “Goodie,” he said quietly.

The hand jerked out of his awkwardly. Goodnight shook his head manically. “It’s happening again, Billy,” he finally whispered. He stared at his hands, now both white-knuckling his rifle. “I can’t see this through.”

Billy considered that for a moment, then drew a cigarette out of his vest pocket and lit it. He held it out for Goodnight without taking a drag himself. Goodnight huffed at that, something that might have resembled a laugh. He put down his rifle, took the cigarette and nodded slightly, then leaned back against the wall behind him. They stood in silence for a few minutes, Billy patiently watching Goodnight smoke.

“Shit,” Goodnight said as he finally noticed the stub left between his fingers. “Shit, I’m sorry Billy.” His expression had turned from unfocused to devastated in a second. The cigarette butt fell from his hand.

Billy shrugged. Sharing cigarettes with Goodnight was the only reason he really smoked at all. “It is fine, it was for you anyway.”

“You’re always takin’ care of me,” Goodnight sighed. His hands came up to rub his eyes hard. “You’re always takin’ care of me and I’m always leadin’ you in to new trouble.”

Silence again for a moment, then Billy reached for his partner’s hand again. Goodnight let it be taken this time. “I would not have stayed if I did not enjoy your company.” He raised Goodnight’s hand up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to it. Goodnight looked up sharply. “And I enjoy your company very much,” Billy finished, keeping their hands up against his chest.

Goodnight winced and adjusted his hat with his free hand. “We should leave once it gets dark,” said Goodnight. “Can’t go yet, it’ll draw too much attention and some of the others might try to start somethin’.”

Billy considered. “What about Chisolm?” he asked. He didn’t seem surprised at Goodnight’s suggestion.

Goodnight looked the other way and then looked down at the dust. “Reckon he’ll die the same as the rest of ‘em,” he replied.

“Goodie.”

“Billy.”

“Why did we come here?” Billy asked, moving to stand directly in front of Goodnight. He held both of Goodnight’s hands between them.

Goodnight kept his eyes fixed on their hands. “Because I owe that son of a bitch duly sworn warrant officer my life,” he sighed. He finally looked up again to make eye contact with Billy. “We’ve got to go though. I’m not gonna be of any use here, and I sure as hell don’t plan on leaving you here to die alone.”

Billy kept his face expressionless and calm. “So do not let me die alone,” he whispered.

Goodnight’s face cracked in pain. “Shouldn’t have brought ya here. We don’t need the money, Billy, we can go back to the fights.” He was gripping Billy’s vest tightly, Billy’s hands still wrapped over his. “Or if ya don’t wanna do that, we’ll figure something else out. We don’t have to kill no more. You don’t have to kill no more.”

“I am not here for the money, Goodie,” Billy said gently. He knew that Goodnight knew this. “I am here for you, and you are here to repay a good man.”

“I’m not ready to die, Billy,” he said. “And I’m not ready for you to die either. I don’t know what’s waiting for me on the other side but I know for sure it’s nothing good. Please, please come with me tonight.”

Billy said nothing, but slowly removed Goodnight’s hands from his person.

“You’re staying,” Goodnight said softly. They could both hear the heartbreak in his voice. He truly hadn’t expected Billy to disagree here.

“I am.” He didn’t need to explain why. Goodnight knew why. If Goodnight wouldn’t be here to help Chisolm with his impossible deed, Billy would repay the debt instead.

“So this is goodbye,” Goodnight stated. He wasn’t ready for this to be goodbye. He took off his hat and looked Billy in the eye.

“It seems it is,” Billy replied. He took a step back. He wasn’t ready for this to be goodbye either. But some things are more important than the two of them.

Goodnight fiddled with the brim of the hat for a moment, then dropped it in the dirt. He moved forward suddenly into Billy’s space, clearly going for a kiss.

Billy, reflexes fast as ever, ducked out of the way. “No,” he said, eyebrows knit together.

“Billy, please, I lo-”

“No,” Billy interrupted again, louder. “You do not get your sweet goodbye. If you are leaving, leave. If you wish to leave me without closure, then you do not get any either.” Goodnight startled, first at how much his partn- how much Billy had spoken, and then at the words themselves.

Goodnight stepped toward him, and at that Billy turned away and walked back into town. Goodnight stood alone, staring at his hat in the dust.


	2. -Five Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First and second time meeting. Goodnight's impressed, Billy is intrigued.

Goodnight Robicheaux stared out across the dust. He’d been riding for four days and stopped only to sleep when absolutely necessary. Goodnight Robicheaux was in a hurry.

\----------------------------------------------

Two weeks ago he’d been in a tiny town in west Texas, a place so new the people hadn’t settled on a name yet. He’d only really stopped on the way by to grab some supplies, and had actually heard locals arguing about the name in the general store.

“Why don’t you just name it Spit then?” one man yelled after having apparently had enough. Goodnight cracked a smile at that, but didn’t say anything. This was a fast stop, and he didn’t need his mouth getting him in trouble. He was on his way to Shady Cross, a bigger town he was supposed to find a decent bounty in.

As he was unhitching his horse to leave, a man hitched a black horse beside him. Goodnight briefly glanced at him, optimistically wishing it was the man he was looking for, but no. It was some Chinese man. Strange, ‘round these parts, for one to be alone. The two made eye contact for a split second, then the Asian hurried away down the street. Son-of-a-bitch had some damn intense eyes on him, could have bored holes through Goodnight’s head if he’d held his gaze any longer. Goodnight shrugged inwardly. He had places to be.

So Goodnight had left Spit without paying it much attention. He got to Shady Cross, arrested the bad guy, and rode a week back to Austin. On his way out from collecting his money, he passed a wanted poster that made him do a double take.

Shit. It was the Chinese man he’d seen in Spit. _Shit_ , Goodnight thought to himself again.

The poster said the man’s name was Chang, and that he was an indentured servant who had killed two of his masters. Goodnight couldn’t say he’d blame a man in that position, but shrugged. Murder’s still murder, and it was a thriving business to be a part of.

Goodnight was exhausted from the last two weeks. And really, he didn’t need the money. It was only another three hundr- “ _Shit_!” he swore out loud. Three hundred dollars would be mighty welcome right now. Three hundred dollars could be a new horse and saddle, two things he was in sore need of. He stared at the poster for a few seconds more, then sighed as he tore it off the wall to fold and pocket it.

\----------------------------------------------

The evening of the fourth day he finally saw Spit on the horizon. He was sure the man had moved on by now, but was also sure someone would have remembered which way he went.

Goodnight approached the town at a casual trot after he made sure his guns were loaded. The sun had set by the time he got there, and the only place lit up was the hotel-saloon. Goodnight grinned. It was about time for a good drink, a real bed, and maybe even a little female company. It had been far too long on all counts, and this quiet town seemed about the right place for all three.

So when the fight broke out not ten minutes later, Goodnight was a little surprised and pretty damn irritated.

He’d just started talking to a young man named Sam at the table next to his, hoping to hear about where his bounty had gone. He distantly heard someone pull out a stool at the bar. And then he heard some words he couldn’t ignore.

“We don’t serve the likes of _you_ ‘round here,” the barkeep said. Goodnight breathed in deep and let it out slowly as he turned.

He didn’t see the new patron’s face, just that he was wearing dusty riding clothes and had dark hair. The man spoke his reply too quietly for Goodnight to hear, but the barkeep didn’t hold back his.

“I don’t give a god damn shit if Alistair’s rentin’ you a room, I don’t have to sell you booze if I don’t want to, and guess what? Don’t want to.” The barkeep nodded to a man with a gun sitting in the corner of the room opposite to Goodnight. Security. Great. The corner man and three others all stood up and walked very deliberately to the bar, surrounded the dark haired man, and cocked their guns.

 _I don’t need to get involved, I don’t need to get involved_ , Goodnight repeated to himself, even as he stood up from his table and downed the rest of his drink. “Sorry pal, I’ll be right back,” he said to Sam. Sam had a warning look on his face, but Goodnight disregarded it. He knew how to settle this. Drop his own name to get the barkeep to back off, invite the other interloper to his table and buy him a drink, see if he knew where his bounty had gone.

Except that’s not how it went. In the slightest.

Closer to the bar now, Goodnight managed to overhear the unwanted man. He had a stilted way of talking that Goodnight couldn’t quite place. “My money is same as everyone else’s here,” he said quietly. “I have enough for a drink.”

Goodnight stood only a few feet away now, and was about to diffuse the situation when -

“Hear that fellas? The Chinaman’s got some cash!” the first man with a gun yelled.

 _Oh, that changes things_ , Goodnight thought. He backed up a little, trying to think of how to continue. He really didn’t have the time, it turned out.

The armed men had now formed a tighter circle around the Asian, including the barkeep on the other side of the counter. “Hand it over and we let you leave town with yer life,” a second gunman said. The bounty put his hands in the air and slowly slid off the stool to stand. And then he did something incredible.

None of them had seen it coming - not the barkeep or his security, or Goodnight, or anyone else in the saloon. The man - Chang? - dropped to the floor faster than Goodnight could actually process, and kicked out the legs of the two men on his right. They dropped and he kicked them both in the head in succession. The other three men at the bar raised their guns and aimed, but hesitated to shoot as the Chinese man lifted one of the unconscious ones slightly off the floor, effectively shielding himself.

He pushed the concussed one towards the two on his side of the bar, then took advantage of their stumbling to surge between them. He simultaneously hit each one in the throat, sternum, and crotch with precision. They toppled, and the man kicked their guns across the floor. All that was left was the barkeep.

The barkeep fumbled with his gun with terror in his eyes. The victim-turned-assailant hopped the bar like it was nothing, boots landing square on the barkeep’s nose. He stood quickly and his eyes darted around the bar, wary of more attackers.

Goodnight whistled low. This guy was a god damned work of art. Five men down and not a single shot fired. Most of the rest of the patrons in the saloon had left when the guns first came out, and they’d all emptied out quickly now. _Someone probably went to get the sheriff_ , Goodnight realized. Wheels were turning in his head, and he’d reached a decision. He walked up to the bar with his hands up, hoping it was enough to not get his lights knocked out.

“Well that sure was a hell of a thing you just did, partner,” he said much too jovially. “You get into trouble like that often?”

The man glared at him, suspicion clear on his face. Yep, that was the same man he’d seen a week ago. Hard to forget those eyes. The man quickly picked up the barkeep’s revolver and aimed it at Goodnight.

“Gun. Kick across floor. Now,” he said.

“Whoa, whoa now,” Goodnight laughed. “I’m not here to fight ya. Anymore. Came looking for ya, actually, you’ve got a decent bounty on yer head.”

The man cocked the gun.

“Wait!” Goodnight yelled. “That’s not what I meant!” The man didn’t lower the gun and looked to be running out of patience. They could hear loud conversation down the street. Goodnight slowly took his gun out of its holster and kicked it a little ways away from himself. “I just meant, guy like you might find it useful, travellin’ with a guy like me.”

“I am no slave.”

“I get that! I get that. Wasn’t suggestin’ that. I was thinkin’ more... business partners. Equal shares in profits. How’s that sound?” Goodnight lowered his hands slowly, not being able to help the grin that crept onto his face. This was the best idea he’d had in a long while. And that should have said a lot about him.

“What business? Bounty hunting?” the man looked genuinely curious now, excellent.

“Well, somethin’ like that, yeah,” Goodnight replied. His hands went to his coat pockets and he beamed. “I’m great at findin’ them, and you look to be down right fan-tastic at the incapacitation bit.” Goodnight slowly walked down the floor, prudently avoiding stepping too close to his gun, and looked out the window. “Though,” he said carefully, “We may want to hit the road and _then_ hammer out the details.”

The man effortlessly hopped back over the bar, picked up Goodnight’s gun, and looked out the window beside him. Yep, the saloon patrons had gotten the sheriff (from the whorehouse, it seemed) and were heading down the street. They’d be there in a minute, maybe two.

“Let’s go. Now,” the man said. He still held both guns but quickly followed Goodnight out the door. Goodnight tried to quickly undo his horse from the post outside but kept fumbling it. His hands were shaking. Shit, he shouldn’t have drank that moonshine so fast, it was doing a wicked number on him.

Before he could even ask his companion, the man came up from behind him with a small, shining throwing knife. He cut the rope and ran around the side of the building before Goodnight could even say thanks. Seconds later, he came racing out of the stables on his own horse.

“No time to stand around! Go!” he yelled at Goodnight. Goodnight shook his head, trying to clear the booze out of it. The small mob was getting too close. He hoisted himself up onto Penny after two failed attempts. As soon as he was on, they both took off into the night.

They rode as fast as they could for maybe 15 minutes and then Goodnight’s new friend slowed down. Goodnight caught up and rode beside him.

“Think we’re clear?” he asked, hands shaking a little again. He knew it wasn’t the alcohol now.

“For now,” the man replied. “We keep moving for another two hours. Then camp.”

Goodnight nodded absently, then remembered. “Can I at least have my gun back?” he asked

“You get gun in morning when you leave.”

“Whoa now,” Goodnight said. Penny stopped appropriately, to which he sighed and nudged her along again. “What about the business opportunity of a lifetime?”

“I do not need drunken white man to make money,” the man replied.

“Alright first off, you wound me. I am not a habitual drunk. Second, and I’m not judgin’, just statin’ facts, but you’ve been on the run for two weeks and everything you have is stolen. Am I right?”

The man gave him a withering look.

“Alright. So what I am offering you today, sir,” Goodnight said with his best sales-pitch voice, “is the chance to really make a name for yourself, and a heap o’ cash, too. It’s Chang, right? Why, I reckon you could be famous if you stick with me. I’m a little well known myself!”

The man’s lip curled up in disgust. “I do not want fame,” he said. “And I do not care who you are. And that is not my name.”

“Oh,” said Goodnight. He’d been counting on most men wanting fame. “Well, ya don’t have to be famous. We could keep it real stealth if you wanna stay away from that.” He paused, considering. “Say, what is your name then? Posters said Chang. Did I even pick up the right China-”

“Korean,” the man interrupted.

“Huh,” Goodnight huffed. “Well, I still say you’re better off travelling with me.”

Goodnight could just barely see it in the moonlight, but he swore the man actually rolled his eyes. “And why would that be?”

“Right. I dunno how long you’ve been in the grand old U.S. of A., but ya must have noticed how things work for people like... you,” said Goodnight. Not a strong finish, but he was positive he could turn this around.

Not-Chang turned his head and gave him a most sardonic look. “Koreans?” he asked.

Goodnight snorted. “Y’know what I mean. Anyone who ain’t from ‘round here,” he replied.  
  
The man’s eyebrows raised high. “Yes, I see how kind white men are to the Indians,” he said.

“Shit, ya got me there,” said Goodnight. “What I mean. Is that you’re gonna have a tough time of it on your own. Ya might speak pretty decent English, but that’s not gonna cut it when you need a place to sleep at night, or supplies from a store in some awful little town. You could really use a friendly guy like me to help you out with that.”

The man considered. “What is in it for you?” he finally asked.

“Well, I mean, I’ll find the bad guys and you put ‘em down, then we split the reward down the middle.”

“You did this alone before? Why need me now?”

“I wouldn’t say _need_ , pal, that’s a strong word,” said Goodnight. He was half joking. He did need a partner for this work. It was getting harder on him every time. “But it’s a helluva lot easier with a partner to watch yer back,” he added.

Silence lasted between the men for several minutes, and Goodnight was afraid of disturbing it.

“I will think about it,” the man said finally. “You have food?”

Goodnight smiled. “Hope ya like beans and pemmican,” he replied. “So what do I call ya then?”

Silence again for a minute, and then, “Billy.”

Goodnight smiled. “Y’know friend, I was just thinking that you look like a Billy,” he said.

“We make camp soon. You get gun back in morning.” Goodnight couldn’t see it now, but there was the barest hint of a smile on Billy’s face.

“Fair enough. You got a last name?” This could be good, Goodnight realized. This might just be a good thing that he’d started.

Billy hesitated again. “Rocks. My name is Billy Rocks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd meant to post this last night but ended up spending a lot more time on it than expected. Here it is! I'm having fun with this, hope you folks are too. Thanks for the comments/kudos/bookmarks, means the world to me!


End file.
